


Cool Kids

by nevermindgrantaire



Category: Monstrous Regiment - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevermindgrantaire/pseuds/nevermindgrantaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of short drabbles from my university AU.<br/>Maladict is Polly's rarely seen room mate- as the year goes on they start to get closer.<br/>Polly wants a break and for her roommate to at least try and act normal.<br/>Maladict wants just coffee and a kiss, frankly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cool Kids

 

 

Polly leaned her elbow out of the window, music blaring from the beat-up old car’s shitty stereo. She was waiting at a red light, driving back to uni after the holidays. Ankh-Morpork Institute was a prestigious university, or so she was told every single evening when she sat down for food in halls by the professor whos beard trailed in his soup and who seemed to be going a little odd. Still, it felt much more akin to a stint in a clown-training school or something. The amount of ridiculous traditions and the frankly weird people…

She shook her head with a sigh. Her weird roommate, for example. She’d been there for a term, and yet she hadn’t actually met her roommate yet. Every morning when she got up, there was a softly snoring pile of blankets in the opposite bed, and if she came home during the day, they were still there snuffling in their sleep with maybe the hint of dark hair and pale skin resurfacing from the blanket fortress. But at night, when she came home late, they’d be completely gone. Leaving behind the faint smell of coffee and cigarette smoke, even though it was meant to be a no smoking dorm, the roommate would _poof_ into thin air.

Polly didn’t understand, to be honest. Did they not have classes or something?

Parking in the back-alley round by the bins, she lugged her bulging suitcase out of the boot and pulled it towards the back door of the “top-of-the-range” student accommodation. She kicked the door twice, and then gave up trying to knock given that everyone in the house was probably too lazy to get up and answer. Juggling the suitcase and her car keys and her door key, she finally managed to get the door open and ambled into the kitchen and through to the corridor. “Hello?” She called.

There was no answer. She glanced through the door, covered by a blue and pink bead curtain, but oddly there was no one sitting in the common room either. She smiled a little to herself. It was odd to see the sofa without Lofty and Tonker (old school nicknames that had stuck, she assumed) lounging across it playing video games instead of going to classes.

“Anyone home?”

The silence seemed to echo back at her.

She turned to go up the stairs to her room and make sure that her roommate hadn’t trashed it in her absence. Absently, she wondered if they’d gone home, or if they’d had anyone to go home to. Then her eyebrow furrowed.

She could hear something, a tinny thumping beat like a mouse trying to start a thrash metal band. Pushing open the door to her room, she was almost expecting an orchestra of fleas.

Instead what she got was a lanky dark haired pale girl lounging across the bed opposite hers, in skinny jeans and black Byronesque shirt, with black headphones over their head and a huge black coffee balanced on their chest. Written on the cup in white writing was “don’t talk to me until this cup is empty.” Her eyes were closed and her hand draped across their forehead dramatically.

Polly grinned. The elusive roommate, spotted in their natural habitat.

She cleared her throat.

The girl leapt a mile, spilling coffee all down her chest, and tried to regain their dignity with the faintly insulted, slightly disdainful look of a cat who’s been caught falling off a bannister.

“Hello.”

The girl coughed, trying to hold back a splutter, and looked between her and the coffee-covered shirt for a few seconds, obviously weighing up the lack of dignity with the option of burning her chest. After a split second, she yanked the shirt up over her head and dropped it to the floor, flapping a hand panicked at her bra. “Ow,” she said, wincing, and twisted her mouth at her wryly. “Hello.”

Polly raised an eyebrow. “You alright there?”

“Perfectly fine, thank you very much for asking,” the girl snarked. “Waste of perfectly good coffee.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

She sat up a little straighter. “I take my coffee very seriously.”

Polly sighed and hoisted her suitcase up onto the bed, and yawned. “Do you want me to make you another one?”

The girl tutted at her. “It’s ok, I’ll do it.” For the first time, Polly noticed the little silver coffee grinder on the other girl’s desk. “You want one?”

“Ah, I’m alright thanks. Not too keen on coffee.” The girl shot her a look like she’d killed her dog, and Polly smirked. “So, what’s your name? Weird that I’ve not met you so far, right?”

“I’m Maladict. Mal.”

“Polly. The others call me ‘Ozzer’ for some reason.”

Mal laughed, raising one slim, perfectly controlled eyebrow. She seemed oddly in control considering the fact that she was shirtless in front of a total stranger and the place where the coffee had splattered was starting to turn a little red. “Oh, you’re the infamous Ozzer, are you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, only that I’ve heard about you before.” Mal shrugged her skinny shoulders as she turned the little grinder. “One of the others, Jade, I think it was. She told me about your argument with Professor Heinrich.”

Polly blushed. She always blushed far too much. At her old school, people had often compared her to a colourful tomato. “Oh, god…”

“No, I mean, good for you! No one likes him, to be fair.” Mal left the pot of coffee to brew in a pot on the corner of the desk while she turned to her dresser and rummaged around for another shirt (white, this time). “And a kick to the balls was probably a welcome wake-up call for him.”

Polly snorted, turning to start unpacking her suitcase. “I wish. Unfortunately, he’s even more of a dick than ever.”

Shooting a grin that was balancing dangerously on the line between enthusiastic and shark-like, Mal poured the coffee out into a mug and breathed in the steam. As she breathed it in, Polly could see her shoulders relax. Well, that was probably a reasonable explanation as to why the room always smelled like coffee. “Well, it was nice to meet you, roomie.”

“Half a term too late,” Polly smiled at her. “You too.”

She watched Mal as she turned away, her eyes flicking over the slim lines of her neck and her shoulders, her scruffy dark hair that was swept back away from her face and her lanky pale arms. Her posture was perfect, her shoulders relaxed and her gait loping.

Of course, Mal caught her looking and shot her a wink. “See anything you like?”

Polly huffed. “Go away.”

Mal just grinned to herself and took another gulp of coffee.

 

*****

 

Mal slammed the kitchen door shut behind her and slumped against it, breathing hard and doubling over to grip her knees. She was wearing running shorts, a strappy black top and pitch black trainers. She should have been splattered with mud, but her stormy expression gave off the impression that any mud that tried to stick to her would be made to regret it and as such, her white socks were unstained. “Bloody hell.”

Polly appeared at the door, newly cut short hair scruffy and unstyled, and stretching. “You should really stop going running,” she informed her as she rinsed out her emptied breakfast bowl at the sink. “It makes you cranky.”

Mal shot her a look. “Silence, mortal,” she muttered. “I need coffee.”

“I made you one. On the table.” Maladict grinned like a kid on Christmas day.  
“I knew that one day I’d be able to train you into the perfect roommate.”

Polly laughed. “Sure,” she said. “I still haven’t cleaned the shower, though. And also, someone replied to your passive aggressive note on the cupboard.” She gestured to the note (‘please stop drinking my god damn coffee!!’ ‘stop buying so much god damn coffee then, there’s no more room in the cupboard!’) She looked up at her innocently through her eyelashes. “It wasn’t me, I swear.”

Maladict snorted. “Are you trying to use your feminine wiles on me, Perks?”

Polly spluttered. “Sure. I’m practically overflowing with feminine wiles.” She looked down at the flat front of her tank top and then up at Maladict with a toothy grin. “Is it working?”

Mal glanced her up and down with a grin and then turned to read the note, a distainful smirk curling on her lip. “Peasants. I can’t simply stop buying coffee!”

“But seriously Mal, how many brands do you need?”

Rolling her eyes, Mal opened the cupboard. “I’ve only got a few different kinds…”

Polly sighed. “Mal. You have over fifty brands in there. You could set up your own shop at this rate.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Mal huffed. “I’ll use this lot before I buy any more.”

“Thank you!” Polly sing-songed at her and took her arm to pull her into the living room. Then she dropped it. “Ew, you’re sweaty.”

“Thanks,” Mal said, dryly.

“You’re welcome. Come on, we’re having a COD tournament with Lofty and Tonker.”

“And when did I agree to this?”

“You didn’t. Come on.” Polly didn’t even wait for a response, just towed her into the living room. “You need to socialise more.”

“I socialise!”

“You sleep. And drink coffee.”

“I socialise with myself.” Mal paused. “And you!”

“Not necessarily willingly.” Polly stopped, bouncing in her stripy socks. “Come on!”

Groaning and putting up a vague pretence at a fight, Mal sighed. “Fine. Fine! Anything for you, commander.”

For a moment, Polly froze, looking into her eyes in confusion like she’d heard something wrong and was trying to work out what was said. Then she shook it away and smiled. “Commander. I like that.”

 

*********

 

About 4 in the morning.

Something thudded against Polly’s window.

She sat up, and yawned, confused. Her first instinct was to look around to see if it was Mal making the noise, but Mal’s bed was empty. Again, something clattered against her window pane.

She got up, skinny legs bare in boxers and a tank top, and opened the curtains to look down.

Standing outside the window was Mal, leather jacket and skinny jeans, bottle of something alcoholic-looking in her hand. “I’m locked out!” She half whispered, half sing-songed. “Be a darling, Polly dearest, and let me in!”

“I have to get up for work in the morning, you asshole,” Polly hissed back, despite her smile. “Give me a sec.”

She tip-toed down the stairs and opened the door, letting Mal in. Mal tripped on the door step and fell into her arms with a giggle. That gave her pause for thought- she had never heard Mal giggle in her life. It was… oddly endearing. “Thank you, pretty Polly,” Mal chirped.

“Ok, I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

Mal detangled herself from Polly’s arms and stumbled into the living room, sprawling over the sofa. “Not tired.” She grinned up at her. “Come join me.”

“Mal, I have to go to work. I have a proper job. Unlike you.”

Mal sighed. She pouted, shooting puppy-dog eyes straight through her heart. “Please?”

“Fine. Fine!” Polly flopped down on the floor at Mal’s feet and took the bottle. “One drink.”

Mal grinned and stretched out on the sofa so that Polly couldn’t sit down on it even if she wanted to, claiming her territory. Polly downed a mouthful of the slightly sickly-sweet alcohol, and wrinkled her nose. She watched Mal wriggling on the pile of cushions like a cat.

“There. Now bed.”

Mal stuck out her bottom lip, and then smirked, shooting Polly a heavy-lidded look instead. “Why don’t you want to stay with me, Polly?”

“Oh, no you don’t. Bed. Right now.” Polly took her arm and tugged her up, pulling a little too hard so that Mal suddenly swung up, too close to her face. She swallowed nervously. Maladict grinned.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Your _own_ bed.”

“Aww.” Maladict huffed, and started playing with her hair as Polly led her up the stairs. “Don’t you like me?”

Polly sighed, ignoring her.

“Sweet Polly Oliver,” Mal crooned in her ear.

Polly slapped a hand over her mouth. “Shh! Everyone else in this godforsaken house actually needs to sleep, you know.”

“Oh yeah.”

“So you need to be quiet.”

Maladict leant into her neck, so that Polly could feel her eyelashes when she blinked. “I can be very quiet,” she said breathily. “You should help me with that.”

“Mal!” Polly reprimanded.

“If only there was a fun way to make someone shut up. Like, oh, I don’t know. Covering their mouth with yours so that they can’t talk anymore.”

“You stop that.” Polly said, smiling exasperatedly. She struggled to open her door with Mal in her arms, but managed to wrestle it open and easily tipped Mal into her bed and dragged the blanket over her. “Go to sleep.”

“But I want attention!” Mal mewled. “And a kiss, preferably.”

“You can have attention in the morning.”

“Can I have a kiss in the morning?” Mal was starting to sound a little tired by then, slurring her words with a yawn.

“Go to sleep,” said Polly, clambering back into her own now-cold bed. She couldn’t help wriggling happily, toes curling with happiness. “Good night.”

Mal sighed happily too. “Good night.”

 

*******

 

The morning after, Mal woke up early with the hangover to destroy all hangovers. When Polly’s alarm finally went off, she woke to see Maladict sitting cross-legged on her bed nursing a cup of coffee and a thumping headache.

She tried to hide her amusement. “Good morning,” she sing-songed.

“Ugghhhh,” Mal managed.

“Hungover?”

“Ughhhhh.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Polly smirked, starting to get up. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

Mal’s neck flushed, spreading up over her cheeks. “Ugh.”

Polly laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes too.” She wriggled into her work shirt, pinned on her name-badge and plopped down on the bed beside Mal. “Do you remember some little thing about begging me for a kiss, by any chance?”

Maladict squirmed miserably, trying to keep her composure. “Unfortunately.”

Polly nudged her with a shoulder. “It’s ok. We all say embarrassing things when we’re drunk.”

Shuffling in her seat, Mal didn’t seem to find that at all comforting. “Ughh.” She managed, and looked up at her through eyes shrouded in purple from lack of sleep.

“Now,” Polly said, leaning across her and dropping a kiss on her forehead. “Now that I’ve paid back last night’s debt, do you want to talk about why you decided to get drunk and try to get me into bed?”

Maladict looked at her for a second. Then she calmly put her cup of coffee down onto the floor and pressed her lips to hers. Polly leaned into the kiss, sliding a hand around her pretty pale neck and Maladict could feel her smiling. When she pulled away to breathe, Mal pressed their foreheads together and took a deep breath. “Talking is not particularly my strong point. I don’t like it.”

Polly huffed a laugh. “You don’t like anything, Mal.”

“I like coffee.” Mal kissed her again. “And I like you.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first thing for this fandom, even though I've appreciated the fandom from afar for a long time. Slightly concerned that this will get absolutely 0 hits lol. Likes and stuff are incredibly appreciated!


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